Posts tagged ‘memories’

December 1, 2016

Play

Orange record player
First class ticket out of Dodge
“Puppy Love” express

————

I vaguely remember, the time when I was just little… and my older brother taught me how to write my name.

I remember being very proud of myself.  My brother seemed proud of me too.  And he told me that we could now play a game… a great, fun, NEW game.  I eagerly and happily awaited his instructions.  I would do just about anything my older brother told me to do when I was little.  Something I grew out of, thankfully, but not before learning some lessons the hard way.  This was going to be one of those lessons.

I remember my brother giving me an orange crayon… and he said, “I’m going to go out of your room and count to 100.  When I come back in, anything that does not have your name on it – is mine.”

You would think that

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January 8, 2016

Looking Up

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wandering thoughts caught
frozen in shades of gray, still
she was looking up

~smj

Blackbird, Paul McCartney & Wings

January 7, 2016

Missing and Reminiscing

*sigh* I miss this. This place, I mean. I miss the poems… reading and writing here. I’ve been writing… Just not here…and not really for me.  Life has been… relentless…  as usual. Not all bad. There’s plenty of good mixed in.  So, I’m not complaining. Well… maybe a little… but that’s not why I’m here.

I am just missing this place again… And this part of me that goes with it. I guess it has been put on the back-burner once again.  Par for the course. I go in spurts, as usual,  and lately I haven’t been reading any poetry, let alone writing any.  Shame. 

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April 11, 2014

Happy Sibling Day ?

siblingsSo, it’s “Siblings Day”? Never heard of it before. I’m sure my brothers will agree that there are way too many new holidays these days. Must be Hallmark trying to improve sales or something. Sheesh. We can barely keep track of the essential ones. Still, all these posts on Facebook about siblings made me reflect on my relationship with my brothers, and I felt like writing about it a bit. Only one of my brothers is on Facebook. Ironically, he’s the one who until fairly recently was pretty computer illiterate, and I figured he always would be. But, that’s one of the things about brothers. They can surprise you. For example, you can go your whole teenage life thinking that a brother hates you, and then you grow up and realize that they actually always did care.

When I was a kid, it seemed I had one big brother who let me hang out with him, and in the process taught me how to do everything I wasn’t supposed to do. Man, we had some fun though. Then, I had my oldest big brother that would get upset with me for doing those things, and tell on me. Because my oldest brother seemed to love to see me get in trouble and to NOT have fun, I assumed he didn’t like me much. Of course, I was wrong. He was just very protective. I realized that the older I became. When it came down to it, both of my brothers were always there for me, and still are. I always knew that. It’s a good feeling.

Growing up, I was always trying to be one of the boys. Except, I never really was. For starters because nobody was allowed to hurt me. My father would allow my brothers to kill each other – but, they were not allowed to hit me. Of course, they still did sometimes, rarely… but, they sure as hell didn’t let anyone else mess with me. My oldest brother was probably the most protective. He claims this is because he was the one to get in trouble if/when any of us got in trouble. I’ll buy that. The only one more scary-protective of me than my oldest brother was my Dad… and Dad could be pretty scary. After-all, he did regularly say things like, “I’ll rip your arm off and beat you over the head with the bloody end of it!”.

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March 24, 2014

Almost Home

I’ve almost forgotten
what it feels like to walk
naturally sure and steady
without the constant click, click, click
of a cane that beats in time to my pace
accompanying every other annoying step
making me feel so old and less than
the woman, mother, person I once was.

I’ve almost forgotten
what it feels like to walk
without pain, with just my dog
and sometimes the moon following along
as we travel to the churchyard and back,
around the block, or to and through
our favorite woods, where the creek
is undoubtedly running high today.

The woods…
I’ve almost forgotten
what it feels like to walk
through their trees, with quiet sounds
that drown out the chaos, while earthy aromas
rise up from dirt paths that give way
to my footsteps, with or without leaves
shuffling or crunching along with us
as we move through our seasons.

I’ve almost forgotten
what it feels like to do
so many things I once loved,
but never really knew how much.
Like, how it felt to just be
the me that I once was – playful, strong, so full
of confidence and myself.  Maybe too full
yet still, underrated.

I’ve almost forgotten, almost.
And, what about you?
What do you see when you look
at me?  I know you miss me too, but
have you also almost forgotten? Do you remember
me at all? Can you even faintly feel the spring breeze
that smells like the woods, and calls to me by name?
It’s whispering to us, howling to us,
“don’t give up, you’re almost home”.

~ smj

“In every frame upon our wall lies a face that’s seen it all
Through up’s and down’s and then more down’s
We helped each other off of the ground
No one knows what we’ve been through
Making it, ain’t making it without you

Maybe I’m not but you’re all I got left to believe in
Don’t give up on me, I’m about to come alive
And I know that it’s been hard and it’s been a long time coming
Don’t give up on me, I’m about to come alive”

I’m About to Come Alive, by Train